


if tomorrow we go to war (darling, kiss me)

by chasing_daybreak



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Dimiclaude Exchange (Fire Emblem), First Kiss, M/M, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28009653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasing_daybreak/pseuds/chasing_daybreak
Summary: There is no better time to confess to your long time crush than right before a war. Right?
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 82





	if tomorrow we go to war (darling, kiss me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nelenus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelenus/gifts).



> Written for DimiClaude Exchange 2020.

The last of the Lions and the Deer leave for bed just before midnight. Save for Dimitri and Claude, there is no one else left. The map of the monastery and surrounding areas lies on the table, formations and battalions and escape routes marked in ink.

They have barely a day before Edelgard strikes. They have to be as prepared as possible. 

Claude looks at the full moon outside the window of the classroom-turned-war room. He wonders if he’s imagining the faint hue of red.

Across from him, Dimitri slumps in his chair. He has stood for the entirety of their strategy debrief, back ramrod straight, face pinched in concentration as he went over tactics with Claude. Only now does he allow himself to show signs of fatigue.

No. Not fatigue. Exhaustion, in every meaning of the term. Claude thinks he can relate.

It is quiet.

For a long while, they sit in complete silence. Claude’s silver tongue stays itself despite his need to fill in the void with conversation. Dimitri stares aimlessly ahead at the map in front of him, lost in thoughts. Claude wonders what could be swirling inside the other man’s head. Edelgard’s betrayal, while not entirely unpredictable, has left them all unmoored and reeling. But aside from Rhea, Claude wagers Dimitri may be the most affected.

It wasn’t hard to see the soft spot Dimitri has for the former Black Eagles leader. Or had. Claude isn’t certain.

A few minutes pass by before Dimitri shakes himself out of his trance. Blue eyes immediately fix onto Claude, and a small, crooked smile finds its way to his lips. It’s similar enough to the usual tired smile he often spots after difficult missions that Claude doubts anyone less perceptive than him could recognize its brittle edge.

“I thought you would have gone back to your room by now,” says the prince, hands folded on the table. Claude has never seen him take off the gauntlets. It may be for the same reason Hubert never took off his gloves.

The quiet realization that he will never play chess with Hubert again settles in his stomach, stone cold and heavy. 

“Thought I could keep you company.”

“You do not have to trouble yourself for me.”

“You’re right. I don’t _have_ to do anything,” Claude stretches his arms above his head, kicks back until only two chair legs touch the ground as he plants his feet on the side of the table, and stares at the ceiling. Dimitri must have deciphered the hidden implication of his words, because he offers Claude no more apology. 

Usually, he would love to turn in early. Sleeping still doesn’t come quite easy after his years dodging one assassination attempt after another, and it will only get harder from now on. But there is something about Dimitri’s presence here that stills Claude’s steps and makes him want to stay.

Having a war looming over them, too, changes a lot of things.

“... Claude?”

Hearing Dimitri calling his name jostles him out of his reverie. Claude stops looking at the ceiling and turns his gaze back to the prince with a cookie cutter smile. “Yeah?”

Oddly enough, even though he was the one trying to catch Claude’s attention, Dimitri now fidgets in his seat, one hand wringing the other like a nervous child. Claude recalls several occasions in which Dimitri has looked exactly like this when he approached him for the last few months and raises a curious eyebrow. There was the time Dimitri caught him feeding stray cats near the stable when there was no one else around and they spent half an afternoon watching the cats roll around on the grass, Dimitri’s cheeks tinged pink whenever Claude winked at him during a joke. The time at the Ethereal Moon ball, when they had just shared a dance together; Dimitri had kept Claude’s hand in his even after the music had faded, lips quivering as though he was about to say something, but then both of them got pulled in other directions by their housemates and the moment was lost. Numerous times they shared a desk in the library late at night, Dimitri unable to sleep and Claude not wanting to, when in the middle of reading Dimitri would set his quill down, clear his throat subtly in an obvious attempt to draw Claude from his book, only to end up frozen on the spot before he could utter a word. 

The prince has been wanting to tell him something, but Claude hasn’t been able to piece together what exactly it is. How peculiar.

And so he waits, patient. The fidgeting does not last long this time, however; Dimitri exhales harshly, as if irritated at his own hesitation, then abruptly stands up and strides towards Claude’s side of the room. It should alarm him, perhaps, the instinct of a prey ingrained into him from childhood making him wary of any sudden movement in his direction. But Claude remains in his seat as Dimitri stops about an arm’s length away from him, determined.

“My apologies for the wait. I…” Dimitri’s throat bobs once, then twice. “I’ve been meaning to say that I… deeply appreciate you, as a friend. This past year has been difficult, but you have always been there, brightening up many of our classmates’ days with your presence. I’m definitely not an exception to that.”

Out of all the things Claude expected Dimitri to say, this was not it. He untangles his arms from behind his head and lowers his chair down to the floor, unable to hide his surprise.

“... What brought this on, Dimitri?” he chuckles at the other’s totally serious expression, not knowing what to make of the speech. “It’s nice to be appreciated, of course, but…”

“That’s not all,” Dimitri’s words come rushing out like a flood. “You are also more courageous than you like to make yourself seem. You look after your housemates with kindness and lead them with honor. There is a lot more to you underneath your humor and optimism and I…”

Dimitri bites his lips and casts his gaze downwards. Claude’s focus shifts to them unbidden, almost guiltily. He forces his stare to flick back up to Dimitri’s azure orbs.

Another anxious beat. Dimitri looks up right into his eyes, and then—

“... A war is coming. I have been delaying this for months now, but I may never get another chance. So Claude… I like you. I have for a while. You’re on my mind more often than not, and… oh, Goddess. Please, say something, I beg of you.”

Dimitri’s face is red, the flush spreading to his ears and down his neck, disappearing into the high collar of his shirt. Claude’s own face feels unnaturally warm despite the Lone Moon weather. He prides himself in his ability to read others, to uncover what they keep hidden, to always be two steps ahead. And yet, Dimitri has managed to shock him twice in the span of as many minutes.

Dimitri must know this kind of affection between two future leaders of Fodlan is almost unheard of, not to mention ill advised, in peacetime and wartime alike. He is intelligent enough to recognize that, at least. Tomorrow they go to battle against old friends and classmates. There is no telling if either of them will make it out alive. Even if they do survive, who can say what will happen in the aftermath?

But maybe that’s precisely why Dimitri is bringing this up now, in the precipice between this day and the next. Before they have to put on their armor and steady their weapons. Before they have to lose whatever innocence is left within two people who have suffered more in eighteen years than most others do in a lifetime. 

The crimson moon hangs high in the sky, its eerie light streaming through the windows, painting Dimitri’s blonde hair silver. He looks almost ethereal standing in front of Claude like this. As Claude rises from his seat, the image of a cliffside comes to him. In his mind, he is teetering near the edge, the bottomless pit below whispering unspeakable things. He isn’t sure if the fall will be worth the risk of shatter.

But Dimitri is so beautiful. Between the darkness lurking under his charming politeness and the bleeding heart too big for his body, he is nigh irresistible. 

Belatedly, Claude realizes he has long taken the plunge.

“Normally, I’d expect flowers or a gift, you know,” he teases, delighted at the way Dimitri immediately blushes harder and opens his mouth, presumably to apologize yet again. Claude cuts him off before he can do so. “I’m just joking. You’re too adorable when you’re flustered.”

“Claude…” Dimitri whines (whines? That’s a new one), exasperated. “If you must turn me down, please do it promptly. I can take it, but do not so cruelly delay your answer.”

“Hm… Well.” Claude takes one step. Two steps. They are almost touching. At this short a distance, Claude has to tilt his head back to face Dimitri properly. It’s a little overwhelming, but he may come to like it. He can still feel the heat on his cheeks and wonders if Dimitri notices. “I never said I would, did I?”

Dimitri’s eyes widen slowly, as though in disbelief. Revenge is so, so sweet. Claude relishes in it for a moment before Dimitri’s lips curl up in a soft smile, one hand coming up to cradle Claude’s jaw, the other tentatively resting on his waist.

He holds him like something precious. Like he was worth that tenderness. 

Claude’s suave words crumble to dust on his tongue. When Dimitri starts leaning in, Claude throws all caution to the wind and surges up to meet him in the middle, arms winding around Dimitri’s shoulders and clinging desperately.

It’s not a perfect kiss. For all the charm Claude possesses, this is the first time he has kissed someone. The first time he has _allowed_ someone else to kiss him. Dimitri seems to have the same problem, for they are both clumsy, teeth clacking against each other and noses bumping every time they try to turn their heads.

Claude can’t remember the last time he felt his heart beat this loudly.

The rest of the world falls away. It feels like time itself has frozen around them, like nothing else matters. In the back of Claude’s mind there exists still the ticking of the clock that counts down towards the end, but all he can hear is the sound of Dimitri softly sighing into their kiss, his long eyelashes fluttering against Claude’s skin like butterfly wings.

The end can wait, Claude thinks, and kisses Dimitri again.

**Author's Note:**

> come scream with me on twitter at @_ruinedsky.


End file.
